


Old Ways; New Doors

by rowaelinsmut



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: AU, Abuse, Angst, Assault, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Multi, Music
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 14:45:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13638366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowaelinsmut/pseuds/rowaelinsmut
Summary: In the underbelly of the metal music scene in Rifthold, Aelin Galathynius is a victim of physical and mental abuse. She is the piano player of her band, the Queen of Shadows and she meets a stranger from foreign lands that changes her life and gives her a reason to fight back, to get out.





	1. Chapter 1

Music pounded through the brick walls, echoing off the deserted street. The resounding beats of whatever band was currently playing rattled through Aelin as she leaned against the wall edging into the alley of the old run-down building she was forced to spend her evenings in.

The cool evening air sent a chill over her skin. She shook it off and took a long drag from her cigarette before letting the rest fall to the ground. Aelin pondered the ember, wishing she could somehow burn the world to ash, to cleanse it of its rot and stain. She could hardly think of a single name she would spare, if given the chance. A barren wasteland of unfeeling and of uncaring resided in her heart; very little kept her going lately.

What was the point, when everyone around you either died or abused you?

Using the toe of her heavy black combat boot, she snuffed the flickering ember out. As she looked up, she peered down the barely lit street, seeing an approaching figure. Had she not looked up, she may have missed him. Despite his size, his gait was silent. He moved with feline grace; a predator in his own right.

As he made his way towards the venue, she pulled the hood of her jacket further down over her forehead, hiding within the shadows as he made his way towards her.

“That’s a nasty fucking habit.” He had stopped in front of her, his nose wrinkled at the lingering smell of smoke. The stranger had an accent, subtle but lovely, like a soft, rolling purr.

Aelin looked up at him, assessing whether it was worth it to get into a fight before she was set to be on stage. He was a hulking mass of a man, and from what she could see of his face under his hood, he looked like an asshole. The same type that always showed up each night at the Vaults.

He removed his hood and Aelin noted the wicked-looking tattoo etched down the left side of his face, flowing over his jaw and down his neck, disappearing underneath his coat. His eyes, she had to admit, were an enticing pine-green and they stood stark against his cropped silver hair. He harboured the same violence, the same vehemence she did within her own. It was not however, a face she had seen around Adarlan before.

“Move along, then. Show’s inside.” Aelin snapped, crossing her arms defensively. As interesting as it would be to see if she could hold her own against the powerfully built man in front of her, Arobynn would kill her if she showed up bloody on stage. Only he was allowed to savage his performers in such a manner.

The stranger chuckled darkly and pivoted away without another word towards the entrance to the Vaults. Aelin let out a shaky breath when she heard the door open and close behind him. Whoever he was, he had no business getting involved with her. She would only lead him to ruin.


	2. Old Ways; New Doors II

Aelin leaned into the wall, pressing against it as though it could give her the support she sorely lacked. Her head fell back and thudded softly against the brick. The last thing she wanted to do was follow the stranger into that shithole but she knew Arobynn would be hunting her down any minute, wondering why she wasn’t at his beck and call.

She heard the door slam open just then. “Aelin!” An angry voice called. Great. It was as though the very thought of the bastard could summon him. She sucked in a breath as he rounded the corner.

He stalked into view, shining red hair flowing like a banner in his wake. Aelin straightened as he stopped in front of her, his silver eyes flashing. He didn’t say anything for a moment and she thought that maybe one time, he would prove her wrong and not resort to laying a hand on her. However, as always, his hand whipped up from his side and he wrapped it around her throat.

Aelin knew there was no sense in fighting him as he would always win. This was her bleak reality. This was the only life she knew.

Arobynn forced her back further into the wall, all but slamming her head back into the brick. His grip, while tight on the column of her throat, was loose enough to allow breathing. Aelin could feel his fingers digging into her neck and knew that she would bruise. He leaned in close to her, the smell of bourbon on his breath causing her nose to burn.

“I don’t know what to do with you. I’ve given you everything,” he hissed, baring his teeth. “Yet, you continue to defy me. I cannot imagine why. Get inside.” He released her throat and Aelin straightened, a hand raising to rub her neck where he’d been gripping her. Arobynn took a step back, assessing her before changing gears. “I only ever wish to protect you, my dear. That’s all.” His tone had softened but Aelin had enough experience with Arobynn to know he was full of shit. He only wanted to possess, there were no hidden depths to this man.

Aelin didn’t say a word as she turned away and strode towards the entrance to the Vaults. She was sick of this place, sick of that man. Sick of this life. She hauled the iron door open and stepped into the dimly lit room. She spared a glance at the stage opposite of her. The vocalist looked as though he was one more drink away from collapsing on stage.

She shook her head as the man tripped over the cords for his mic and went crashing down. He was so out of it he just laid there laughing. His bandmates looked as disgusted as Aelin felt. “Bloody amateurs.” She muttered, leaning against the bar and flagging down the bartender. He acknowledged her with a nod but guestered towards the customer he was currently serving to let her know he’d be a minute.

“Smoking and talking to yourself? You just get better each time I run into you.” A sarcastic voice drawled behind her. Aelin turned her head to the side to see the stranger take the vacant spot beside her.

The bartender slid a bottle of water across the counter towards Aelin, waving away the rumpled bill she pulled out to pay him. As a regular and an employee at the Vaults, he needn’t ask what she wanted. It was the same every night.

Aelin focused her attention back to the man. “And you’ve offered even less in return. What do you want,” she asked, impatience tainting her words.

“I want a beer. I want to get on stage and then I want to leave this festering shithole.”

Aelin finally met his gaze. His pine green eyes flitted over her face before resting on the already formed bruises on her throat. She shifted the collar of her jacket to cover the marks and continued to stare defiantly back at him, challenging him to address it.

The tension radiating from him was palpable but Aelin made no move to respond. Finally, he walked away without another word and Aelin felt as though she could breathe again. She looked over to see him settle in a group of three other men, all as powerfully built as he was. The man looked back at her, only once, with an unreadable expression on his face before he turned away and began speaking with his companions.

Aelin looked down at her bottle of water and realised she’d peeled most of the label off. A stupid, nervous habit she had picked up somewhere along the way between the beatings and the loss.

She missed Sam.

It had been two years since he was killed. Two years since everything had gone to hell and she’d lost the man she loved. Aelin had pooled all the money she’d earned through gigs into hiring a private investigator just the other week and she’d been anxiously awaiting news.

She had her suspicions on who had orchestrated it. If she was right, she would have revenge.

Her train of thought was interrupted as her cousin settled a heavy arm across her shoulders.

“What were you doing talking to Rowan Whitethorn? I didn’t even know you knew each other,” he squeezed her close before releasing her.

“Who?”

“Rowan Whitethorn? Big, menacing guy with the wicked tattoo? He’s the front man of The Cadre. They came here from Doranelle as part of their world tour.” Aedion asked for a beer from the bartender with a wave and was served right away. He used the edge of the bar counter to pop the cap off before taking a swig.

Rowan. Such a pretentious name. The Cadre. Even more so. “Why are they slumming it in Rifthold if they’re so legendary,” she remarked, glancing over at the table where they were seated.

“I don’t know, but you’re co-headlining tonight and that’s a pretty rad achievement.”

Aelin rolled her eyes and looked back at the stage. The drunk man’s bandmates had hauled him off stage and they were busy tearing their set down.

As she did, Aedion saw her neck. “Aelin, what the fuck is that.” His tone had cooled off and she could sense his fury.

“Just Arobynn, getting a little too handsy as usual. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“I am worried about it,” he exclaimed. “Does he think he owns you or something? He can’t treat you like this. I’m going to kill him.” As he said this, Arobynn settled across the bar from them. He raised a drink in their direction, silver eyes glinting dangerously in the dimly lit room.

Aelin didn’t acknowledge him but Aedion was never good at concealing his feelings. He glared until an elegant smile settled upon Arobynn’s lips and then Aedion snarled. “I swear to the Gods I am going to kill that man.”

“Don’t.”

Aelin groaned at the interruption. She turned to see that Lysandra had approached them. Aelin and Lysandra had a complicated history to say least - Arobynn was fond of beating Aelin but he took advantage of Lysandra in other ways. He’d then pitted the girls against each other in the same band to vye for his attentions but Aelin had grown weary of the games and as of late, had stopped taking the bait.

Lysandra had been insufferable up until two years ago when Sam had been killed. Things had shifted that day. Aelin wondered if Arobynn could sense the tides changing the last few years, he wasn’t unintelligent but he had a weak spot when it came to women.

“What do you want, Lys?” Aelin muttered.

“Don’t kill him.” She spoke quietly enough that both Aedion and Aelin had to lean in to hear her better. “I can’t explain here - I’ll come to your place tomorrow morning.” She shared a meaningful look with Aedion and then she was gone.

“I don’t know whether to trust that woman or not,” Aelin mused.

Aedion nodded distractedly as he watched Lysandra depart, “Well, I’ll be coming to see what she has to say.”

“More like you’ll be coming to stare at her.” Aelin nudged Aedion in the ribs, trying to lighten the mood.

“Why can’t it be both?”

“Pathetic. She belongs to Arobynn. Just like I do.”

“Neither of you belong to him. Stop saying that.” Aedion growled. Any further remarks were cut off as the sound guy called for Aelin’s band, the Queen of Shadows, to start setting up.

Aelin shrugged Aedion off and picked her way through the crowd towards the entrance to the stage, Aedion hot on her heels. Lysandra met them at the bottom of the stairs where Elide, their other bandmate, was already waiting.

Aelin led the way up the stairs and pushed aside the curtains. Her keyboard was already sitting there, still in the carrying case so she picked it up and grabbed her keyboard stand before she made her way onto the stage. Some whistles and cheers rang out through the audience as everyone made their way to their stations with their gear. Aelin waved at them, a small smile dancing on her lips. At least she loved the rush of performing, of being on stage and the music pounding through her veins. It made everything else worth it.

Aedion, as the vocalist, didn’t have much to set up so after he completed his sound check, he helped Elide set up her drums. Aelin plugged her keyboard in and then waited as Lysandra tuned her guitar before plunking a few of the keys in front of her. Aelin looked out towards the crowd and could see in the back of the room that Rowan was watching her. She took a swig of her water bottle and set it on the floor beside her before adjusting the mic stand in front of her, not quite breaking eye contact with him.

Aedion stepped up to the mic and the lights dimmed around them, forcing Aelin’s attention away. Aelin started playing the ivory keys, the introduction melody soft, mournful but building. As she reached the climax of the intro, her fingers flying across the keys, she began to sing and the lights focused on her. The world in front of her fell away as she lost herself in the music and only when Aedion came in, his low screams taking over where her singing had been, did she come back to earth to the sounds of the double kicks from the drums and the guitar picking up in the heavy, and relentlessly fast beats. The crowd began moving to the music, a mosh-pit opened up in the middle and Aelin couldn’t help the flow of the music as it surged through her very bones. A wild grin spread across her face and she threw her head back and laughed.

It was absurd that music had the power to bring her to such highs when nothing else and no one could drag her from the lows. The adrenaline coursed through her veins and she was head banging in time with the beat. When the breakdown hit, Aelin’s world shattered with the crowds’ and she dropped low over her keyboard, her whole body moving in time with the slowed down rhythm.

Being on stage was like nothing else in this world. It was magic, it was the impossible. Aelin felt like she could defeat demons and raise or destroy castles. It was her wildest dreams brought to life. The only downside was when it was over. And because she found such solace in it, it always ended far before she was ready.

After their set and a round of cheering and applause from the audience, Aelin took her gear off to the side and rushed down the stairs. Arobynn would be waiting to lecture her on how shoddy her performance was or how disappointed he was but she always tried to steal a moment alone to breathe. To come back to earth.

Aelin wiped her face on the inside of her white t-shirt, the sweat soaking through it and she found herself in front of Rowan when she set herself right again.

Great. She wouldn’t get that moment after all it seemed.

“What do you want, Whitethorn?” She leaned against the wall at the end of the stairs. The hall here was deserted, except for the two of them.

“Ah, someone told you who I am, have they? Pity, they robbed me of the chance, Aelin.”

Aelin cocked an eyebrow as if to say, I see you’ve done the same. Rowan smirked in response. “You haven’t answered my question.”

“You did well up there.” Rowan assessed her, eyes resting on the bruises once more. “Who did that to you?”

“Why do you care?”

“It must have been recently. I didn’t see them when we were outside.”

“Leave it alone, will you? You know nothing about me.”

“I won’t, Aelin. Who did that to you?”

Aelin was spared answering as Arobynn glided around the corner, a murderous gleam in his eye. “Just go.” She whispered as Rowan turned to watch him approach.

Arobynn stopped in front of Aelin, grabbing her arm roughly and dragging her along with him. “What are you doing back here? You’ve got work to do. Get the hell out there.”

Aelin looked back at Rowan to see his expression turn to stone, his eyes were unreadable. She turned her attention back to Arobynn and pulled her arm out of his grasp. “Yes, I’ve got it. I can find my own way.” She snapped. That would cost her and she could see the promise of violence flash within his eyes.

She pulled ahead and entered the crowded room, edging through towards the bar. Aelin couldn’t see if her bandmates had left yet but she wouldn’t be allowed to leave until the show was done anyways. She grabbed a rag and a bucket of water from behind the bar and the bartender smiled gently at her. This place was hell. They all knew it.

Aelin heard soundcheck call for The Cadre but her back was turned away from the stage, as she began cleaning the bar down and the neighbouring tables. The clientele here were absolute slobs. Her face wrinkled in disgust as she soaked all the spilled booze from the tables into her rag. She stepped in something and felt rather than heard the squelch beneath her feet.

Fantastic.

As she busied herself cleaning, she tuned out the sounds of everything else around her. Aelin ignored the men leering at her and grabbing her. Sometimes she felt as though she would snap and murder the next man who touched her.

The lights dimmed around her and Aelin turned to watch. Centre stage was Rowan, his silver hair glinting in the multi-coloured lights as he gripped the microphone in his hand. He had removed his jacket and was in a form-fitting white tank and she could see exactly where his tattoo went and just how muscular he really was. Aelin’s mouth dried a little at the thought of how easily he could snuff her out and thanked whatever Gods hadn’t abandoned her in this shithole of a city that she hadn’t picked a fight with him outside.

His eyes met hers from across the room just as the music began and Aelin could have sworn time stood still when he started to sing. His voice, holy rutting Gods, could he sing. She was entranced. There was nowhere to hide and he refused to break eye contact. It felt as though he could read her soul, could see her for everything that she really was. Everything that had ever happened to her. Anything she had ever done in retribution. His gaze left her bare and it was an entire songs’ length before she forced herself to turn away. To protect herself, to protect her secrets.

Aelin refused to look at the stage again but nodded her head along with their songs. Admittedly, they were incredibly talented. She still couldn’t fathom why they were here of all places.

As the screams from the crowd filled the vastness of the Vaults, she finally glanced back at the stage. The other band members were all bumping fists and clapping one another on the back but Rowan was nowhere to be found.

Something within her felt vaguely disappointed but it didn’t last long as Rowan appeared in front of her, jacket in hand.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

Aelin paused, rag and bucket in hand. Despite having only really shared a few words with him, his reactions to Arobynn and that connection during his song… she felt as though for once she could let her guard down. For once, she could give an outsider a chance. Even if it was only for a night. Even if she never saw him again. And even if, he turned out to be even worse off than she was.

Aelin dropped the bucket and rag on the nearest table before she went behind the bar to grab her jacket. She didn’t spare a thought for what Arobynn might think as she nodded at Rowan and said, “Let’s go then.”


	3. Old Ways; New Doors III

Rowan led Aelin out of the Vaults and back the way she’d seen him come from originally. “I’m parked around the corner.” He gestured down the street and Aelin nodded in response.

The short walk was quiet and Aelin wasn’t entirely sure she knew what she was doing but… it was better than whatever Arobynn had planned for her. They rounded the corner and the only vehicle in sight was a motorcycle. Aelin arched a brow as Rowan turned to her. “You drive a motorcycle? Seriously?”

“What’s wrong with it?” His mouth quirked in a small half-smile.

Aelin shrugged, “Nothing. I’m just surprised.”

Rowan cocked his head, a predator assessing his prey. Aelin shifted slightly, almost defiantly at the sheer dominance of his gaze. “I like how in control I feel when I ride it. Not much these days feels like it’s within my control.”

Aelin nodded almost absentmindedly, the truth of his words like a shock to her system. How rare to find another person who could pinpoint and call out the very depths of your soul. The fears, the truths… and to voice them aloud when there was no conceivable reason to be so open with her. “I get that,” she murmured.

Rowan’s piercing pine-green eyes softened imperceptibly before he turned towards his ride. “I don’t have helmets, so you’ll need to hold on tight,” his tone was taunting as he swung a leg over the bike. 

Aelin surprised herself by chuckling under her breath. She approached Rowan and placed a bracing hand on his shoulder as she swung her leg over and settled in behind him. She rested her hands on her thighs as Rowan began flicking some switches and as his motorcycle roared to life, adrenaline filled her veins.

Aelin was often rather reckless, but riding off into the night with a near stranger was a new level for her.

Rowan turned his head to the side. “Ready?” He asked, voice raised to combat the roar from the motorcycle.

“Ready.” Rowan turned forward again and just as he put the bike in gear, Arobynn flew around the corner.

“Aelin! Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Rowan wasted no time getting them the hell out of there and Aelin had to grab Rowan’s sides as they took off so she didn’t go tumbling off.

Fuck. Of course he had to see her riding off with Rowan. If she were wise, she wouldn’t return to the Vaults. Arobynn wouldn’t tolerate her insults. But she couldn’t leave Aedion…

The wind whipped her hair free of her jacket and for a brief moment, Aelin felt wild and free. She laughed loudly, an unrestrained laugh that had been absent for too long. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, a feeling she only ever got from performing. Aelin ducked her head down and pressed further into Rowan, seeking solace from the biting chill the speed brought them.

She lost track of how far they went, instead focusing on the strong, steady heartbeat she could feel with her face pressed into Rowan’s back. He was solid and she found comfort in his presence even if there was no conceivable reason to do so. Not yet, anyways.

Eventually, Aelin felt them slow down and only when they had stopped and Rowan waited patiently for her to gather her bearings, did she extract herself from him. She looked around as she dismounted the bike and found they had ridden up a road and had stopped at the base of a hill, the only one that you could see all of Rifthold from. The Avery river below them glinted in the moonlight. It was truly a beautiful sight - even if actually experiencing Rifthold was hell.

Aelin didn’t speak but led the way to the grassy area at the very top of the hill, where a lone picnic table was situated. She didn’t bother sitting on the bench, instead choosing to perch on the table. Rowan’s gait behind her was silent but she knew he followed. She could feel him around her… not suffocating though, just there.

Rowan settled beside her and they both looked on at the city below them, with the river flowing lazily in the night. The city itself was quiet, only the less desirable citizens would be out. Likely making their way to where Rowan and Aelin had just left.

Aelin cleared her throat, suddenly nervous. Rowan looked over at her, waiting. She owed him some sort of explanation… he’d seen Arobynn put his hands on her. He saw her throat. If he had seen any more of her body, she had no doubt in her mind that he would demand answers, like he had tried to do after her set.

“My parents were murdered when I was young. Arobynn took us in since I had no surviving family besides my cousin, Aedion. His own home in the country was close to ours so my family knew him. He heard my parents had died and that Aedion and I had nowhere to go and he was willing to take us in. Of course, now I know that he really just wanted a punching bag,” Aelin’s hands were clenched in her lap as she spoke, bitterness lacing her words.

Rowan betrayed none of what he was feeling but she could sense the tension, just like back in the bar.

“He said I wouldn’t be allowed to leave his employ until I made back every cent he’d lost raising me. So, I’ve worked at the Vaults since probably before I should have been allowed. I started the band as a way to bring in extra money so I could pay my debts off sooner. We do really well, and Arobynn suspected it so he inserted himself as manager so he could see and control just how much we actually got. I hid the ledgers we had from the first couple of years so he wouldn’t know just how close we’d gotten to leaving. I ended up buying a place and moving out.” Aelin paused, taking a deep breath.

“That was when he knew we had hid money from him and he snapped. He took it out on me, forced himself on Lysandra… I don’t think he’s ever hurt Elide but she has her own issues with her uncle.”

She paused again, unsure of how to proceed. “I think Aedion sticks around because Arobynn is afraid of him. He never hits me in front of him but I know for a fact that Aedion has gone after Arobynn when I’ve been too out of it to stop him. I’ve told him not to involve himself because I don’t want to lose the only person I have. It’s not his fight and yet he feels responsible. Arobynn baits him at every turn, daring Aedion to attack him again. He’s a sick fuck like that.”

Aelin’s eyes were glassy and her nose slightly pink. Rowan found it slightly distracting but he stared intently on at her. He wanted to do unspeakable things to Arobynn on behalf of this woman. His aunt hadn’t been lying, Maeve had promised she was beautiful, she was wild but he could see she was still unbroken, even from the tragedies she’d endured so far. Despite the coldness she had on display outside the Vaults… she was still there, fighting.

“I… I loved a man, two years ago. His name was Sam. I would have walked through hell and back for him but I never deserved him.” Aelin wiped away an escaped tear as she dredged through the memories of Sam Cortland. He was kind and good and had given her love when she had least expected it; when she had done nothing in exchange to deserve it. There was so much she wanted to say to him, to thank him for, but she would never have that chance.

“What happened to Sam?”

Aelin finally looked over at Rowan and he could see anger and despair at war with each other in those bright turquoise and gold eyes.

“I’m certain Arobynn had him killed. Because he threatened to take me away - one of his possessions.” Aelin spat the last word out, as though it were acid on her tongue.

“Do you have proof?” Rowan was barely holding in his fury. He wanted to show better restraint so he wouldn’t frighten the battered woman in front of him but something told him she needed someone real in her life who was unafraid of the stained part of her soul. Someone willing to do anything to secure her freedom.

“Not yet. It’s just a feeling. I hired an investigator a few weeks back to look into it but I haven’t heard anything. I’m not sure I trust anyone in Rifthold. Somehow it all comes back to Arobynn in the end and if he found out, well,” she trailed off and Rowan knew precisely what she would not say.

“Anyways, you shouldn’t get involved with Arobynn, or me for that matter.” Aelin had averted her gaze again, and her arms were crossed as though trying to hold herself together after revealing the tragedies of her past.

Rowan couldn’t help but admire the quiet strength within her despite her pain. She had turned to music as her salvation but Rowan couldn’t explain that while she was laying her heart and soul bare, he had decided he wanted to be the one to save her. Drawn like a moth to flame, there was no inextricable reason for him to be involved. Perhaps it was his loss of Lyria and their child, perhaps it was that Maeve was the reason they’d been lost, that caused his heart to sway towards Aelin. The girl who’s heart burned with a fire so fierce but was being stifled by the surrounding forces, with no hopes for escape. A fireheart, trapped in the dark.

“I’ll decide what I will and won’t get involved with.” He spoke clearly and Aelin’s head whipped around, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Why bother? I am nothing and I am no one to you.”

“You’re not the only one with scores to settle. I’m not going back to Doranelle. I used Rifthold as an excuse to end our tour here so I could be an entire continent away from the bitch who shattered my life.”

Aelin’s eyes were drawn to the tattoo along his face. This close, she was able to discern that the wicked design was made up of words. Her heart thudded unevenly in her chest but she made no move to interrupt him, somehow, this night would be a night of truths. Truths with a man who, although she had just met, made her feel like she’d known him her whole life.

“Maeve, who I’m sure you’ve heard of, had my wife and unborn child killed several years ago. She wanted me at her beck and call and since the Cadre had been so popular in Doranelle, she thought it would more prudent that we continue to bring money in to support her back end dealings rather than disband so I could be there for my family. Her name was Lyria.” Rowan’s voice cracked on the name, and Aelin placed a reassuring hand on his forearm. He looked down at her scarred hand and moved to hold it within his own. His hands easily dwarfed hers but he clasped tight anyways and looked her in the eye.

Their shared gaze was burning. Both had experienced such loss. To meet doing the only thing either of them found solace in anymore was a stroke of fate.

“It was a car accident, on a lone road traveling through the Cambrian mountains. She was run off the road by someone driving a vehicle under Maeve’s company. The only person who had any say on where those vehicles go is her so she really wanted me to know who had done it. Of course, there was no way to prove it to the authorities because Doranelle practically worships her as a queen and she’s got them all wound around a finger. I know she did it. That’s what’s important. One day, if I’m lucky, I’ll repay the favor but for now… I am free.”

“Free,” Aelin echoed, lost in the unexplainable grief she felt for Rowan and Lyria.

“You can be free too, Aelin.” He shifted closer to her, grasping both her hands. “I’ll help you. I only ask one thing in return.”

Aelin leaned into his warmth, not realising until just then how cold and how alone she had been feeling until then. “What is it?”

“I will not pretend to be anyone I’m not, nor do I expect you to be anyone other than who you are. We don’t need to hide from one another. Together, we can find our way out.”

Aelin could see the sincerity to what he offered her. A safe haven of sorts, someone who had been a stranger until just a few hours ago that was willing to get her out, willing to listen to her and talk her down. Aelin never liked that Aedion risked his neck alone behind her back but she knew he didn’t listen when she told him not to. Having another person looking out for her and in turn, Aedion, might not be the worst thing she could have imagined.

“To whatever end?” She asked, staring up into his tanned face.

“To whatever end.” He confirmed, giving her hands a slight squeeze.

Aelin released a breath, one that freed her weary heart of fear. She was not alone, and for the first time in a while, she smiled, still haunted but hopeful now as well.

Rowan and Aelin spent the night talking about their lives. They spoke of the victories and the hardships and left no stone unturned. By time dawn had come, staining the sky pink as the new day began, Aelin felt lighter than she had in years. Rowan, too, had a sparkle in his eyes and Aelin marvelled at his deep laugh and how, despite the tribulations he had faced, he was able to still fight for what was right, and not what was easy. They had moved to the ground during the night, taking to watching the stars as they spoke, occasionally sharing glances while their fingertips grazed one anothers every so often.

After a time of companionable silence, Rowan spoke again. “We should head back. I don’t want to make the situation any worse for you.”

Aelin groaned and despite the unpleasantness she was sure to return to, at least she had this moment of peace.

Aelin smiled as Rowan stood up and offered her his hand. She grasped him and he pulled her to her feet. When Aelin was upright, she found herself flush with Rowan’s chest. He looked down at her intently, wonder in his eyes. Aelin flushed slightly, they had discussed their connection during his performance. He had never felt anything like it before either and after their night under the stars, they both agreed that they were unwilling to stifle what was growing between them. Rowan smiled softly, and traced her cheekbone with a calloused thumb.

“Come on, let’s go.” Rowan pulled away but still gripped her hand as they walked slowly back to where they parked. After Rowan kick started his bike, they drove back to the Vaults in relative silence, the roar of the motorcycle piercing the quiet streets. Rowan parked around the corner again and they walked back towards the entrance together.

“I’ll stick around until I know everything is okay in there,” Rowan said as they walked in the front door. Aelin looked around and Aedion came rushing from the bar, concern written so plainly over his features.

“There you are, you just took off and no one knew where to. Arobynn is livid.” Aedion reached her and hugged her tightly before rounding on Rowan.

“Talk to her.” Rowan said simply before brushing passed him to wait at the bar. He nodded at Aelin reassuringly and she patted Aedion on the shoulder lightly.

“I’m okay, Aedion. Don’t worry. Rowan and I just spent the night talking under the stars. I’m safe.” She smiled up at him, hoping to convey that she was truly in one piece.

Just then Clarisse, Arobynn’s business partner, descended upon them like the vulture she was. “He’s been waiting for hours in his office. Go!” She hissed at Aelin, shoving her towards the back room.

Aelin shook herself free of Clarisse’s clutches before heading down the hall behind the bar towards the manager’s office. She hesitated on the threshold before pushing the door open. Tern, Harding and Mullin, three of Arobynn’s bouncers were already in the office while Arobynn sat at the fine mahogany desk, looking as though he were King of the World.

The other three men gave her nasty glares but Arobynn kept his face carefully blank. Aelin leaned against the wall directly across from Arobynn’s desk and crossed her arms.

“You’re dismissed.”

Tern, Harding and Mullin took their leave, closing the door behind them.

“Where were you?”

“Out.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“That’s all you’ll get, Arobynn. I am allowed to have my free time.”

Arobynn smacked the desk, his anger betraying him. “Damn it, Aelin. You prove time and time again these days that I cannot trust you. After everything I’ve done for you, I deserve more.” He pushed back from his desk and stood, coming around the front of the desk to sit upon it, almost as though he was contemplating his next move.

Aelin knew what was coming but she didn’t have the time to stop it. Arobynn was off the desk and in her face in a blink of an eye and she was shoved into the wall the next. Her head cracked off the wall and her eyes watered as she double over, hands reaching up to ease the pain and check for blood. Arobynn used his advantage to trip Aelin and she barely had enough time to throw her hands forward to catch herself before her face hit the ground. Arobynn took a step back and then kicked Aelin in the stomach with so much force she started to gag. Aelin rolled onto her back, coughs wracking her body as she struggled to take a breath.

Arobynn knelt down to Aelin, his silver eyes glinting dangerously. “Maybe when you wake up, you’ll remember to thank those who love you.” And with that, he punched Aelin twice in quick succession in the face. Blood spurted from her now split lip on the first punch and she heard the door smash open and a furious roar rattled her to her bones before the second punch knocked her unconscious.


	4. Old Ways; New Doors IV

When the hired thugs of Arobynn’s sauntered out of the office with shit-eating grins on their faces, Rowan knew he had made a mistake. He never should have let Aelin go in there alone.

He only hoped she wasn’t dead.

That fear alone had him sprinting down the hall towards the closed door, swearing under his breath. He knew Aedion was following him, having witnessed Rowan’s face freeze as the realisation crashed into him.

He reached the door and kicked it in, barely registering the flash of pain at the impact. The wooden door smashed into the wall, coming half of the hinges and Rowan witnessed as Arobynn knocked Aelin out. Rowan roared, his fury like nothing he’d ever experienced before. Arobynn whirled, eyes wide and he stood back up, hands raised as though he could placate Rowan.

Rowan stalked towards Arobynn, eyes flashing mercilessly. Arobynn began bleating incoherently, but Rowan was beyond being reasoned with. He grabbed hold of Arobynn’s jacket and threw him into the shelved wall behind him. The other man’s head cracked on a shelf and his eyes glazed over but Rowan wasn’t even close to done.

Rowan slammed him back into the shelves and got right in his face, “Do you get off hitting girls?” He hissed, shaking Arobynn with each word.

Arobynn couldn’t speak, fear written plainly across his features. He tried to duck under Rowan’s arms but Rowan was faster. He grabbed the lapels of the jean jacket the red haired man was wearing and pulled him closer, a lowl snarl tearing from his throat.

“If I ever see you lay a hand on her again, I will tear you apart limb by limb, you fucking prick.” Rowan shoved him back into the wall, and made to turn away. Arobynn reached out to yank the muscled man back but Rowan had anticipated his desire to inflict pain and turned back to face him, a hateful smirk spreading across his face. Rowan caught the man’s hand and twisted it until a resounding crack echoed in the room.

Arobynn cried out, reaching to brace his broken wrist. Rowan laughed, a dead and joyless laugh and wound his fist back before decking the piece of shit in the face. Arobynn collapsed to the ground, rendered utterly unconscious. The fury inside of him had taken root and as he turned to see Aedion crouched over Aelin, his fury morphed back into fear and he dropped to his knees.

“Is she-” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

“She’s breathing, but she’s out. We should get her out of here.” Aedion made to grab her but Rowan cleared his throat, nerves getting the better of him.

“Please… let me.”

Aedion scooted back and Rowan reached out to gather Aelin in his arms. Her blood was still running down her face - some from her nose but most from her lip. Black bruises had already formed along most of the right side of her face and Rowan couldn’t help but think that Arobynn deserved to be put in the ground for marring the beautiful woman he now cradled in his arms.

Aedion led the way out of the office and down the hall, throwing worried glances over his shoulder at his unconscious cousin. As they exited the dark, narrow hallway Rowan saw that the lingering patrons in the bar had vacated. Good. Let Arobynn lay there on the filth covered floor where he belonged.

Aedion held the iron door open and Rowan squeezed through the door, taking care not to jostle Aelin in his arms.

“Is there somewhere safe for us to go? She mentioned she has a place.”

Aedion nodded, leading the way down the sidewalk. “It’s not far from here. A few blocks.”

The sun broke through the clouds, the morning dawning completely unaffected by the events transpiring below. It seemed almost cruel that a day could begin so peacefully when Rowan’s life had effectively been turned upside down in the past eight hours. Well, not totally peaceful as his knuckles gave a particularly painful throb. It was well worth it.

He found it hard not to start shattering things, shattering people, at how light Aelin was in his arms, how bruised her face and probably other parts of her body were. Then Rowan wondered why Aedion hadn’t gotten her out of this mess yet. What was being done to stop the madman controlling this fierce and bright woman.

He asked Aedion as much.

The golden haired man fell in step beside Rowan, eyes lingering on Aelin’s bruises, guilt written plainly on his face.

“I’m working on it, I swear. Arobynn is well situated here in Rifthold, everyone answers to him in some way or another so we’ve had to be discreet. Aelin doesn’t even know…” He trailed off, brow furrowed as they continued their brisk walk the few blocks to her home.

“He’s been worse lately, much worse with her. Lysandra - you haven’t met her yet, but she’s been helping me - we’ve been trying to get her out before it got worse but…” He gestured helplessly at his cousin.

“I’ve gone after Arobynn and returned the favour several times but it only riles him more. We’ve hired some investigators from Terrasen, where we are from, as they are still loyal to our family. They’ve been gathering evidence against him with us feeding them information about his backdoor dealings and everything he does to her… and has done to her since he took us in. They’re ready to move on him, I don’t like to see Aelin hurt but this only helps her situation.” Aedion took a breath and then Aelin groaned in Rowan’s arms.

“Aelin?” He whispered.

Her eyes fluttered open and she immediately winced causing Rowan to stop short, “Aedion, put her hood over her head.”

Aedion came over, “Welcome back.” He murmured, tucking the hood over Aelin’s eyes.

“How long have I been out?” She gasped out, pain lacing her words.

“About five minutes, we’re almost at your house.”

“We’re here, actually.” Aedion said, motioning to the converted warehouse in front of them.

“Let me down,” she begged.

“Not a chance, not until you’re in bed.”

Aelin wisely didn’t refute him and Aedion opened the iron sliding door to admit them into her home.

Aedion pointed to the room to the right of the kitchen, “Her bedroom is there. I’m going to call Chaol and ask him to bring his wife, Yrene.”

“Are they to be trusted?” Rowan asked, striding to Aelin’s bedroom, eyes scanning the room for any threats, the protector incarnate.

“Yes, Yrene’s a doctor. She knows what Arobynn has been doing and she’s a witness in our case.”

“Case? What case? Why are you talking about me like I’m not here,” Aelin demanded, struggling in Rowan’s arms.

Rowan grunted his response to Aedion, a clear dismissal and Aedion opted to keep his mouth shut in regards to Aelin’s questions and went in search of a payphone, closing the iron door behind him. Once the screeching of the door stopped echoing off the warehouse and Rowan was sure there would be no interruptions until he returned, he strode towards Aelin’s room.

Upon entering, he noticed that the space was clean and efficient. It wasn’t a large room by any means but there was a closet to the right of the door and a bathroom off to the left. The main room housed a bed a large enough to sleep three comfortably. Rowan rounded the left side of the bed and settled Aelin carefully on top of the covers.

“Don’t move.” He then crossed the room to the adjoining bathroom to grab a washcloth. Upon entering the bathroom, he noticed the massive bathing tub in the middle of the room and he couldn’t help but think that it would be incredibly nice to soak in. He grabbed the cloth from the towel rack and wet it thoroughly under the tap before returning to the main room.

Aelin had scooched herself up into a sitting position but was still resting against the pillows with a scowl on her face. She prodded at her lip and winced as Rowan settled beside her on the bed.

“Let me see,” he murmured, scooting closer to her. She offered her face to him and Rowan ran light fingers over the bruising that had formed along her right cheek and jaw. Aelin held strong but he could see that she surveyed him with wary eyes.

He would kill that red-headed fucker for that alone.

He cleared his throat and held the cloth up, making his intentions clear.

Rowan saw in Aelin’s eyes as they softened a fraction at the gentleness in which he was revealing, it wasn’t his fault and she was recognising that. She nodded softly and he brought the cloth to her face, carefully washing the blood from her away.

He ran the cloth over the severe bruising along her jaw and cheek and his jaw clenched as he held in every damnable curse that he could think of.

“Don’t grind your teeth, it’s bad for you.”

Aelin’s breath tickled against his hand distractingly and Rowan was shocked at the chuckle the escaped his lips.

“That’s what you’re worried about? My teeth?”

Aelin grinned crookedly but winced immediately as her just clotted lip split again. “Well, that’s going to be annoying.” She mumbled, leaning back in the pillows, brow creased in discomfort.

Rowan dabbed at her swollen bottom lip to staunch the blood. When he was satisfied she was presentable, he looked over the rest of her. She had a protective arm shielded across her abdomen and her shirt was stained with her blood. “Where are your clean clothes?”

Aelin gestured to the closet to the left with a flippant hand. “Second drawer.”

Rowan stood from the bed and crossed the room to the closet before pulling out the second drawer and grabbing a plain black shirt out. He closed the drawer again and was back across the room before Aelin could sit herself back up. She reached to pull up her blood spattered shirt but Rowan was there to help as he saw the grimace of pain flash across her face.

He lifted the shirt above her head gently, mouth growing dry as he beheld her in only her thin, black bralette. She was beautiful, it was hard to deny. But what Arobynn had done to her… Aelin’s ribs were badly bruised too, it was likely one or two were cracked and her tanned skin was peppered in yellowing and fading bruises from previous beatings.

It was despicable. To treat another person like they were disposable. What kind of monster did this to someone? More importantly, how did Aelin find life worth living if this was her reality. As he helped lower the clean shirt over her battered body, he vowed, as he slide into that scary calm he was all too familiar with, that he would do whatever necessary to keep her safe. To help her heal. To love her.

Despite the hurdles, despite his past and everything he knew he had to face back home someday in the future, he wanted to give Aelin the life she never had. The love she never received.

Aelin murmured a soft, “thanks,” before leaning back in the bed, clearly plagued by the exhaustion the last twelve hours had wrought upon her.

He was reeling by his revelations but it was too soon to cross those lines, to speak those words. Rowan had to get her out first. His train of thought was cut off as a knock sounded on Aelin’s bedroom door.

Aedion poked his head in, “You decent?”

If he saw how Rowan had automatically moved to shield Aelin, he didn’t mention it or react. Wise man.

“Hey you,” Aelin smiled at her cousin and Aedion led in a brown haired man with bronze eyes and a slim woman with molten golden-brown eyes and long waving brown hair.

“Chaol, Yrene, meet Rowan Whitethorn, Rowan, Yrene and Chaol Westfall.”

Yrene smiled brightly and gave a cheerful, “Hello,” before rushing over to check Aelin out. Yrene stopped in front of Rowan and looked up at him questioningly, no intimidation at all in those analytical eyes, and Rowan conceded a few steps. Rowan approached Chaol instead and shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you, sorry it’s under these circumstances.” Chaol said tightly.

Rowan nodded, the tension high in the room. This wasn’t the type of event that should bring people together and Chaol understood that as much as Rowan did. Aedion came up to ask Chaol something but Rowan had stopped listening. He sidled closer to Aelin as Yrene looked her over.

“No concussion, fortunately, but these,” she prodded gently at two of Aelin’s ribs on the right side, “These are cracked. You know as well as I do there is nothing we can do about that. Recovery will be painful.”

Aelin groaned, more from annoyance than pain but Rowan could tell she was close to done with the day. Another knock sounded at the door and everyone whirled to see another woman Rowan wasn’t familiar with. Her striking green eyes flitted over everyone assembled before resting on Aelin. She tossed her dark hair over a shoulder.

“Are you okay?” She asked, Aedion coming up to her to lead her in.

“I’m fine, Lysandra,” she drawled impatiently, “I assume you’re here to deliver whatever ominous message you couldn’t tell us at the Vaults last night. Be quick about it and get out.”

Rowan watched as Aelin’s eyes took in Aedion and Lysandra’s proximity, and Rowan understood that maybe Aelin wasn’t a fan of the other woman and seeing her cousin interact so familiarly with her was disconcerting.

“Explain.” Rowan demanded, taking the seat Yrene had vacated beside Aelin. He pulled her hand into his own and stroked his thumb along her skin consolingly, on her side, no matter what.

Lysandra nodded at Aedion and they both faced Yrene, clasping hands as they did. Rowan felt Aelin tense beside him at that simple action.

“Did you get what you needed today?” Aedion asked Yrene.

Yrene nodded, “I’m ready.”

“What the hell are you all talking about?” Aelin demanded, her eyes flashing with anger.

“Aelin, enough is enough. It’s time we take Arobynn down.” Lysandra said, her voice steeled as she spat out the man’s name. “He’s had his fun with us but I’m done. And I wasn’t getting out unless I knew you were, too.”

Aedion squeezed Lysandra’s hand, encouraging her to continue.

“We’ve got enough proof to go to the station, to get him arrested and put away. No matter who he has wrapped around his finger. He can’t get out now.”

Aelin pinned Lysandra with a stare that Rowan was glad he was not on the receiving end of but he could see the gears clicking into place and he could almost see the gratitude deep within Aelin that Lysandra had even considered her at all. A debt. That was what was between them now, one she wasn’t sure she could repay. Maybe understanding of sorts as well, from one victim to another.

“We can’t win and it’s just not enough for him to not suffer as we have,” Aelin finally uttered, a mere whisper.

Lysandra released Aedion and came around the other side of the bed. She crawled across it and gathered Aelin’s other hand in her own.

“I know, but this is the only way we can be free while he rots, even if we never get to hurt him back, he won’t recover from this. HIs reputation will shatter and so will his hold over Rifthold, over us.”

Rowan released Aelin’s hand and excused himself, allowing the girls to continue talking, gesturing to Aedion to follow outside of the bedroom.

He closed the door behind him and turned to Aedion. “It’s not enough. It’s not enough for him to continue to draw breath after everything he has done.”

Aedion nodded, “I know, but my hands are tied. I’m too close to her so they would come after me first and he has too much power here. This was us pooling all our resources, bringing in as many people as we could to build everything that would take him down. He will lose everything.”

Rowan was silent for a few minutes. He thought about how Maeve had destroyed his life. A simple car accident that killed his wife and unborn child. How she made it look so easy to wreck a person’s life.

“Everything is not enough. Go to the station, give your reports and statements and get everything in writing that will nail him inside a coffin with no hopes of retribution.” 

“What are you going to do?”

“It’s better you don’t know.”

Rowan entered the room once more leaving Aedion alone and sputtering with concern in the hall. Aelin’s eyes tracked him as he made his way back to her.

“I suggest you all do what needs to be done.” He said to the group, before taking his place, a place he intended to remain, beside Aelin once again.

Lysandra crawled off the bed and gave a nod of confirmation and led the others out of the bedroom. Wisely, no one had further questions.

“Aelin will be out shortly.” Rowan said, eyes only for the woman in front of him.

“What are you going to do?” She asked, already sensing his change of pace.

“Don’t ask and it can’t hurt you.” He said, gathering her hands in his own. He pressed his lips to a battered knuckle and she released his hands and traced his cheekbone with a tentative finger. His eyes fluttered closed at the contact and he leaned into her touch.

“Don’t get hurt,” she pleaded.

Rowan’s eyes opened and she was closer than he expected, their breath intertwining. She had a light spattering of freckles on her nose from the sun and it took every ounce of restraint not to kiss each and every one of them. But Aelin surprised him again and drew him closer and he could not hold himself back anymore.

He gently cradled her face, mindful of the bruises, in his large calloused hands and brought her lips to his own. As they met and their lips melded together, a fire raged within him that he could have sworn came from the remarkable woman across from him. He was tentative in his kiss, her lip badly swollen but still soft against his own. He groaned against the soft touch of her and he knew in that moment that he would kill for her and there would be no regrets, only relief that the woman he knew he loved already would be safe.

So he pulled away but not before planting another soft kiss against those lips that shattered his rational being, shattered everything he thought he knew and helped her out of bed before sending her with her cousin to do what needed to be done.

And so his hunt began.


End file.
